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“I’m bored!” complained Rose, as she sat on the floor next to the coffee table with the drawing she had been painting for the last hour.
Ron sighed. He knew this would happen. Rose needed fresh air and running - being locked up inside wasn’t good for her mental health. But going out during a storm wasn’t a good idea either. The sound of thunder reminded him of that.
“What do you want to do, then?” he asked.
He had been playing a chess match against himself, but to be honest he was getting bored too - the whites would win in three moves.
She looked at him with her about-to-throw-a-tantrum face and then suddenly brightened. Ron braced himself for trouble.
“Can we play hairdressers? You could be one of my customers, and I could make you pretty for a wedding!” Rose’s eyes had an almost fanatic shine now.
“Okay, but I want to be really pretty! Handsome! Gorgeous!” he said in a very serious tone which made Rose giggle.
“I’ll go find all the things!” she screamed, and hurried away down the hall.
Ron sighed happily for having averted the impending tantrum, and began to rearrange the chess pieces. A moment after, he heard his daughter running back along the hall towards him Once back, she emptied the little bag she was carrying on the sofa, making a mountain of of combs, bows, ribbons, hair clips, and nail polish.
“So, Mister…”
“Mister Farty,” Ron said in a very high pitched, posh voice.
Rose giggled.
“Do you find my name funny?” he asked, very indignant, emphasising his posh voice.
“Yes!” she returned with a challenge.
Ron looked her in the eye. Rose looked back, squirming, as if she knew what was coming. Suddenly, he launched himself at her, tickling her mercilessly as she let out a delighted squeal. Only when she couldn’t breathe properly from all the laughing did he stop.
“I hope you won’t laugh at my name anymore,” he said in his Mr. Farty voice.
“No! No!” Rose let out a little laugh, and then began to work.
An hour later, Ron found himself with at least ten little hair clips put randomly in his hair and his beard; two bright blue ribbons on the spot just over his ears, and a beautiful silver butterfly clasp hanging over his forehead. He examined his reflection in the mirror Rose was holding for him and complimented her on doing such a good job, making him so pretty, a Rose looked very happy indeed.
“Now, the nails! What colour do you want?” She asked, showing him a variety of nail polish colours.
“Which one do you think suits me better?”
“The blue one!” She threw all the others on the sofa and opened the bottle carefully.
“I think so too. It goes well with my ribbons.”As soon as he said it, Rose got to work.
When Rose was about to paint the last finger, they heard the front door open followed by a yawn.
“Mum!” Rose shouted, followed quickly by Hugo running from his bedroom, also screaming “mum!”.
“Hey!” Hermione greeted Hugo and then entered the living room, where she stopped suddenly. Ron could see her struggle as she made a great effort to not burst out laughing at the sight of him.
“Hi, Mum!” Rose screamed, and she ran to hug Hermione, who bent down to kiss her. “Look at Dad! Don’t you think he’s gorgeous?”
“He looks silly,” Hugo giggled, holding Hermione’s hand.
“Oi! I look very pretty!”
“I think he’s stunning!” Hermione said, sitting carefully on the armrest next to him and pecking him on the lips.
“Thanks, hun. I’d hug you, but my nails are still wet.” He showed her his new blue nails, moving his fingers just in front of her eyes.
“Very pretty,” she said as she carefully batted his hands away..
“They go with my ribbons and my eyes.”
Hugo rolled his eyes at them and went back to his room, giggling to himself. Rose shrugged and began to paint the last nail.
“I’m going to have a shower. Have fun you two!” Hermione got up with a yawn, and left. Her shifts at the Ministry were getting longer and longer, but she loved her job.
“Done! Do you like them?” Rose asked after finishing the last nail.
The blue paint was on Ron’s nails and some on her fingers too, but Rose looked so proud of herself that he didn’t dare tease her.
“Yes, I like them very much.” His praise earned him the brightest of smiles.
“Are you going to keep it on?” Rose asked, while she put all her things on the bag again.
“Of course! My hands look very pretty like this. Now let’s put all this away and have dinner. I think it’s pasta today!” He got up, and used his wand to dry the nail paint.
The next morning found Ron waiting for the lift at the Ministry still half asleep when someone playfully slapped him on the back. He turned around to see Harry smiling at him.
“G’morning!”
Ron had to yawn before answering his best friend.
“Hey! Why are you so happy? It’s just 8 o’clock!”
They entered the lift together, and when Ron pushed the button to their floor, Harry let out a surprised gasp.
“Nice nails.”
“What? Ah! Yes, Rose painted them last night. Don’t you like them?” He showed Harry his hand in a very posh and delicate movement that looked silly on him.
“Gorgeous!” Harry laughed. “I hope Robards doesn’t mind. He’s a bit of a jerk about the dress code.”
“Oh, please! Matilda can paint her nails that horrid yellow colour, and I can’t?”
The lift opened and some more workers joined them in the little space, Malfoy being one of them. They were friendly now, but old rivalries were never forgotten.
“Potter, Weasley,” he greeted them. “Nice nails, Weasley.”
“Thanks, I would recommend my beautician if you want, but she has a tight schedule and only works for the best clients.”
“I like mine better, thanks” Malfoy said, flipping him his middle finger, the nail painted unevenly in a horrid bright pink colour.
“Rainy days are the best for parents, aren’t they?” Ron smirked.
“Just right.” Malfoy said.